


This Train (is Bound for Glory)

by fictionalaspect



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Podfic Available, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-12
Updated: 2011-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalaspect/pseuds/fictionalaspect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Um," Brendon said, when he couldn't stand it any longer. "I feel like I should point out that my thing for you totally involves my dick. Or like. Not that it has to! But it could. That's what we're talking about here, right?"</p><p>Spencer coughed. "Yeah," he said, his voice cracking. "Um. Yes."</p><p>"Okay," Brendon said. "Okay, just checking."</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Train (is Bound for Glory)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [no_tags](http://community.livejournal.com/no_tags/) 2011, the bandom flash-fic challenge. This takes place in summer 2009, and should not be taken very seriously. It was based on the prompt _Brendon/Spencer, adjusting to being in a relationship with someone is hard. Especially when you have your two best friends routinely cockblocking you._
> 
> There is a podfic of this story available [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/442426) by [Fleur Rochard](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurrochard/pseuds/Fleur%20Rochard)!

_Sunday Morning_

Brendon wakes up with his face smushed into Spencer's pillow.

It's perhaps not his finest moment.

"Ow," Brendon says, pulling away and making a face. There's like, this radiating pain in his neck that means he's probably spent the last six hours in exactly this position, shoved in between Spencer's body and the wall. His back is stiff, and his right leg is numb.

"Mmmf," Spencer says. "Hnnghg." He's kind of drooling a little. It's really not sexy. Brendon scrubs his face with his hand and cracks his neck, relishing the loud _pop!_ Then he lays back down on the pillow and pokes Spencer in the cheek.

"Hey," Brendon whispers. "Spencer. Spence. Dude."

An angry grumble. "Fuggoff."

"Spencer."

"Hmpgh." A frown.

"SPENCER."

"BRENDON WHAT THE FUCK," Spencer snaps, groaning and rolling over to glare at him. " _Dude_."

"Hey," Brendon says, grinning. Spencer drops his head back on the pillow with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. Brendon snickers a little, and then starts fumbling around for his glasses. "I thought you'd be less of a dick in the mornings after you got laid," Brendon says, conversationally, still rooting around under Spencer's pillow. "Apparently not."

"I'm just fucking--is there coffee?" Spencer mumbles, opening his eyes again. "I can't even tell you how much my head hurts right now. Tell me there's coffee."

"You're really bad at pillow talk," Brendon says. He finally snags the earpiece of his glasses with one hand, pulling them out from under Spencer's pillow and sticking them on. "In like, five seconds I'm going to get up and tell you to fuck off and we will never have drunk celebratory makeouts ever again. It's over, Spencer. I don't care about last night's heartfelt confession. I'm going to get up and leave you here and drink all the coffee and then write you an acoustic break-up song about how you're great in bed but a dick the morning after."

"You are so full of shit," Spencer says, finally giving up all hope of getting back to sleep and rolling over to face Brendon. Brendon squirms a little closer, because Spencer's hand is kind of already near his ass, and there's really no reason for it not to be all the way there.

"Am not," Brendon says, once he's situated. He kind of can't stop smiling. "I'm serious."

"Uh-huh," Spencer says. He smiles back a little, squeezing Brendon's ass thoughtfully. Then, "For real, though. If you get me coffee I'll suck your dick."

"What, again?"

-

Brendon has totally gotten laid in his bunk before. It's never particularly comfortable, but it _is_ possible.

Just not with someone as tall as Spencer.

"No, just--"

"Argh," Spencer says, fumbling around between them, and then all of a sudden the world tilts. Brendon blinks and suddenly he's on top of Spencer--like, _really_ on top of Spencer, touching absolutely everywhere, and Spencer's cock is digging into his stomach and yeah, shit.

Whoa.

"Oh," Brendon says, and rolls his hips a little. It's hot in Spencer's bunk, and there's literally no space between them, but as long as Brendon can kind of balance himself between Spencer's legs he's not going anywhere. Everything is all warm and slightly damp; Spencer's skin, the palms of his hands, his mouth on Brendon's mouth.

"Mmm," Spencer says. He's less cranky now. His voice has taken on that slightly-growly tone, low and interested. "You should--like this, a little more--" He slides his hand down the slope of Brendon's back, grabbing a handful of Brendon's ass and pushing his hips up at the same time. It's a slow, dirty grind.

"Shit," Brendon mumbles, into Spencer's mouth. He rolls his hips down again. "That's so good, holy fuck."

"I _know_ ," Spencer mumbles back, just as amazed. Brendon bites at Spencer's smile, and then he hides his face in Spencer's neck and just breathes him in.

(Because they can do this now. Because Spencer sucked it up and took a chance last night, fumbled with his beer and the Xbox controller before setting it down between them and looking over at Brendon, squished into the very corner of the couch. Because Spencer had tugged on Brendon's socked foot until Brendon had sat up--and then he'd leaned over, kissing Brendon carefully, more of a statement than a question.

"Sorry dude," Spencer had said after, breaking away. His voice had sounded perfectly normal, but there was a thick red blush grazing his cheekbones. "It's, um. I kind of. I think I wanted to do that for a while? Like, years. And I just--better now than later, right?"

"What?" Brendon had said, still trying to form sentences.

"I promise it won't be weird," Spencer said, swallowing nervously. "It wasn't weird before, right? I mean. We're still bros. Total bros! It's just, it's a thing."

"Spencer," Brendon said carefully. "Are you, like. Do you have a thing for me?"

"Um," Spencer coughed. He cleared his throat, so much so that Brendon had to strain to hear the "Maybe?" that was hidden in the noise.

"I totally have a thing for you," Brendon said, forcing the words out past the rising bubble of panic in his chest. Fuck, it was definitely now or never. His mouth still kind of tingled.

"No way," Spencer said. "No way. I mean--really?"

"Yeah," Brendon said. "So."

"So," Spencer said, nodding. The TV was still turned to the Xbox loading screen. They stared at it in silence.

"Um," Brendon said, when he couldn't stand it any longer. "I feel like I should point out that my thing for you totally involves my dick. Or like. Not that it has to! But it could. That's what we're talking about here, right?"

Spencer coughed. "Yeah," he said, his voice cracking. "Um. Yes."

"Okay," Brendon said. "Okay, just checking.")

Spencer smells pretty good, even through the smell of sweat and unwashed boy that permeates the tiny space. Or maybe it's just that Brendon's been brainwashed into thinking that Spencer smells good like this, because he's been dealing with years of weird sublimated sexual frustration watching Spencer get all hot and sweaty on stage.

Either way, it's nice.

Brendon nuzzles into the line of Spencer's beard, just where the fine hairs start to thicken into actual facial hair, and then Spencer pushes him down again, rolls their hips together, and hey, yeah, Brendon's right back to thinking only with his dick again. They'd somehow managed not to fall asleep naked last night--which is probably good, considering how many other people live on their bus--but Spencer's only wearing a thin cotton t-shirt and basketball shorts and an old pair of Brendon's socks. Definitely no underwear, because Brendon can almost feel the ridge of his cockhead pressing up against his own, and maybe if he pushes his hips down a little more--

"Fuck," Spencer bites out, tipping his head back farther. Brendon bites along his Adam's apple, working his hips down, feeling the way that Spencer twitches up to meet him. Part of his brain is trying to figure out how to talk Spencer into giving him that blowjob he promised--after last night, Brendon is convinced that Spencer's mouth needs to be on his dick at all times, forever, propriety and public appearances be damned--but this is also pretty hot. It feels secretive. It feels like they're seventeen and sneaking around.

Spencer's shirt is rucked up almost to his armpits, and Brendon wasn't wearing a shirt to begin with, and every movement of their hips drags the edge of Spencer's basketball shorts down a little farther. Spencer's fingers are skimming along Brendon's sides, pushing up and over his ass, tucking into the waistband of Brendon's briefs.

"I bet I can get you naked without using my hands," Brendon pants. He bites down on the curve of Spencer's throat, pulling back slightly to suck at the mark.

"No way," Spencer says, breathless.

"Uh-huh," Brendon says, pushing himself up to his elbows after one last lick at Spencer's abused neck. "Yes way." The angle's a lot sharper like this; he can wrap his legs around Spencer's and press down and really control the motion.

"How are you going to-- _oh_ ," Spencer says, groaning a little at the friction. There's a large patch of exposed skin at his hip, and Brendon presses his thumb into the curve of skin and muscle. He's careful not to touch Spencer's cock, but he does have to keep him in place for this to work.

"You're cheating," Spencer says. He shifts under Brendon's hands, moving restlessly. "You said no hands."

"Am I touching your clothing?" Brendon whispers back. "No, no I am not. Dickwad."

"Yeah, but--" Spencer bites out, and then there it is--the right angle, the right pressure, pulling down firmly on Spencer's shorts so that just the tip of his cock pops free. The head is thick, flushed red, and when Brendon leans back down he can feel the slide of Spencer's pre-come along the thin skin of his stomach.

"Fuck," Spencer whispers, rolling his hips up even as he's tugging impatiently at Brendon's briefs. "Get these _off_ , seriously, I want to--"

"Spence," Dallon says, tugging the curtain back. "Dude, is there more coffee? I looked in the kitchen but I couldn't..find..."

"Um," Spencer says.

There's a long, awkward pause.

"Wow," Dallon says. "I, uh. Wow."

"I can totally explain," Brendon says.

"I don't think you need to," Dallon says. "It seems pretty self-explanatory from here."

"Okay, yeah," Brendon says, nodding furiously. "Yeah, I get that, but--okay, it's not that we weren't going to tell you--"

"Um," Spencer says, again.

"But you weren't going to tell me?" Dallon guesses. "Dudes. It's--you know it's okay, right? With me? I'm not going to--"

"No, it's not that," Brendon says. "No, hey, Dallon." He reaches out and pats Dallon on the arm. "Definitely not that. I wouldn't think you would--no, man."

"Okay," Dallon says. "Cool. But this is like--how long has this been going on? How dumb should I be feeling, here?"

"No, that's what I was going to say," Brendon says, the words tripping out over each other. Wow, this is awkward. "This is kind of a new thing. Like, really new."

"Oh," Dallon says. "Really?"

"As in, last-night new," Brendon says. "Hence the not telling anyone. So if maybe you could--" He tugs on the corner of the curtain.

"I totally would," Dallon says, giving them a sympathetic look. "Man, if it was me--but you guys know the rules."

"The rules?" Brendon says, frowning.

"I don't know how you guys did it before," Dallon says, holding up his hands. He's being very careful to only look at Brendon's face. "But I thought that was standard, you know, no sex on the bus."

"Um," Spencer says, again.

"I'm just saying," Dallon says. "Pretty standard. Sorry dudes. It's not that I don't feel your pain--"

"Right," Brendon says, his heart sinking. There go all his awesome plans of fucking Spencer on every available surface. Shit, he can't believe that's really a rule. Ryan had never seemed to care if anyone was around while he was getting laid; the rest of them had just sort of followed suit. "No, it's cool, we'll figure it out. We can all sit down and uh. Talk about it."

"We probably should," Dallon says, nodding thoughtfully.

"Guys," Spencer says finally. His voice is small and pained. "Guys, can I put my dick away now?"

-

_Sunday Afternoon_

"It's a rule," Ian says, nodding his head as he packs their favorite pipe. "And like, congratulations and all? But trust me, when you're not the person getting laid, it's a rule you definitely want to enforce."

"You were in the Cab," Spencer mumbles into his coffee, ignoring Ian's bro-punch to his shoulder. He's still bright red. As horrible and awkward as this is, Brendon can't really look away. He's never seen Spencer quite so fumbly and embarrassed before. "I refuse to believe that any of you were even old enough to kiss."

"Hey," Ian says mildly. "The ladies love me. I got my share of the attention."

"Weren't you still in like, high school?" Spencer says, squinting.

"Dude," Ian says, putting down the pipe and staring at Spencer. "Hello. You were signed when you were _sixteen_. Pot to kettle?"

"Yeah, but I never--"

"Look, either way, trust me, we needed that rule when we'd find Cash and Singer on the sofa and Cash would have his hands--"

"OKAY SO ANYWAY it really wasn't a rule for us," Brendon says, cutting Ian off before he can divulge too many unnecessary details. He shifts uncomfortably on the tiny kitchen bench, clutching his coffee cup. He hopes the rest of the guys can't tell that he's still hard. "We all pretty much did what we wanted. Like, if I never hear Ryan Ross orgasm again? It would still be too soon."

The kitchenette is suddenly quiet.

"So that's where all those rumors came from," Dallon says eventually, into the shocked silence. He looks like he's trying hard not to laugh. "Good to know."

-

_Monday_

There's a handwritten list taped to the tiny bus refrigerator.

**  
_Ian's rules for dudes who have sex with other dudes in their band._   
**

_  
**1\. No one wants to see your dick.**   
_

_  
**2\. If I can theoretically walk in and see your dick, you cant bone in there (LIKE THE BUS)**   
_

_  
**3\. ???**   
_

_  
**4\. PROFIT!**   
_

"These don't even make sense," Spencer says. He frowns at the piece of notebook paper, tugging it off and holding it up to his face so he can read it more closely. "He could 'theoretically' be anywhere. We could be having sex on the moon, and Ian could _theoretically_ show up, and then that would mean the entire moon is off limits."

Brendon's leaning up against the bus wall. He tilts his head and squints at Spencer because...what?

"What?" Brendon says.

"Never mind," Spencer says. He digs in his pocket for a sharpie, and then writes YOUR RULES ARE LOGICALLY INVALID across the piece of paper. "Come on, let's go make out in your bunk."

"But--"

"Come on," Spencer says, again, and grabs Brendon's hand. He's smirking.

Brendon goes.

-

_Tuesday_

**  
_Ian's rules for dudes who have sex with other dudes in their band VERSION 2_   
**

_  
**1\. No one wants to see your dick.**   
_

_  
**2\. If I can theoretically walk in and see your dick, you cant bone in there (LIKE THE BUS)**   
_

_  
**3\. Look, you guys can't have sex on the bus.**   
_

_  
**At all. Ever. Even if we're not there and you think we won't be coming back because then SOMETIMES WE DO AND NO ONE NEEDED TO SEE THAT**   
_

_  
**4\. Or in the mens room at the venue, Brendon.**   
_

_  
**5\. The rules are enforceable by any means necessary.**   
_

-

_Wednesday_

"Rest stop," Brendon breathes, into Spencer's ear. Spencer's lying in the vee of Brendon's legs, on the couch in the back lounge. No one ever said anything about cuddling.

"Hmm?" Spencer says, tilting his head back a little. He's doing a crossword puzzle out of a book, because Spencer is one of this secretly smart people who is actually good at word games and finds them enjoyable instead of sheer torture.

"I just heard Dallon talking about a rest stop," Brendon says, soft and private. "Rest stops aren't on the list. And if it has a single bathroom---"

"They'd know," Spencer whispers back, quirking an eyebrow. "I'm not Superman. I can't get you off in under three minutes."

"You could try," Brendon breathes out. He rolls his hips a little against Spencer's back--nothing serious, just a reminder. "It probably wouldn't be that hard." Brendon is actually almost entirely sure that Spencer could get him off in under three minutes. They've spent the last three days in each other's pockets, practically on top of one another; it's torture to be able to finally touch Spencer and yet be unable to do anything about it.

"Yeah?" Spencer says. He tips his head back onto Brendon's shoulder. "Like what?"

"You want me to tell you?" Brendon murmurs, his stomach already tightening up. "Here?"

"Yeah," Spencer whispers back. "You should tell me about it." Brendon bites his lip. He's opening his mouth to tell Spencer exactly what he thinks they should do when a jet of water hits his temple.

"The fuck?" Brendon sputters, wiping at his face. "What---?"

"No being creepy on the bus," Ian drawls. He's stretched out on the opposite couch, and he has a tiny plastic water pistol in one hand.

" _Dude_ ," Brendon says. "Oh my god. We're not cats in heat, what the fuck."

"Seems like it from here," Ian says. He gives his water pistol a thoughtful look, and then turns to Dallon. "You want to go in with me on a Super Soaker?"

-

_Thursday_

"Ian, hey," Brendon says, tugging on his arm. "Dude, come here, I need you to a look at this pedal."

"Sure," Ian says, nodding. Brendon waits until Ian's followed him over to stage right, and then he yanks until they're both off the stage, out of hearing range of all the techs milling around.

"Your pedal's over there," Ian says, frowning.

"Fuck the pedals," Brendon says, dropping Ian's arm and pointing at him accusingly. "You're doing this on purpose."

"Doing what on purpose?" Ian says, batting Brendon's hand away.

"Cockblocking me," Brendon says. "I saw you give Dallon five bucks this morning. You guys bet on this, didn't you."

"That was for coffee," Ian says. "I owed him money."

"That was right after I found him booby-trapping my bunk," Brendon says. He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, what now?"

"What did he do to your bunk?" Ian says. He looks like he's trying hard to keep a straight face.

"It's not important," Brendon says.

"Can you still sleep in it?" Ian says.

"Sort of," Brendon says, making a face. "Look, anyway. Dude. I know you're enjoying being all evil mastermindy and shit about this, but it sucks. For me."

"I think it's pretty entertaining," Ian says. "Seriously, what did he do to your bunk? He wouldn't tell me. I had to take his word for it."

"He put those little gunpowder snapper things under the mattress," Brendon says. "I jumped up on it to get my iPod and they went off and I almost pissed myself."

"Holy shit, that's brilliant," Ian says. "Dallon is a genius."

"Dallon is an asshole," Brendon corrects him. "Seriously, guys. All we want is like, an hour. One hour. We'll buy you dinner. We'll buy you a _steak_ dinner." He's shifting his weight back and forth, and he can feel himself blushing. Brendon thought he no longer had any shame, but apparently begging his bandmates to give him an hour alone with Spencer so they can fuck crosses that line.

(But god, it would be worth it. Brendon is pretty sure he's going to actually explode soon if he doesn't get laid. It's not his fault that Spencer is hot. Like, jesus fucking christ, Spencer is hot. And even if he's still an asshole in the mornings, he's also all tousled and sleepy and it's slightly disturbing how fast Brendon now goes from 'waking up' to 'hey, can I suck your dick?')

"Hmm," Ian says. "Steak, you say?"

"Tenderloin," Brendon says. "Promise. Swear to god."

"Hmm," Ian says, again. He shrugs. "I'll confer with my associate and get back to you."

"No," Brendon says. "No, this is a take-it-or-leave-it thing. Steak, tomorrow night, and we get the bus. Or no deal."

"No deal," Ian says, after a minute. "Sorry."

"Fuck," Brendon says, swallowing hard. That was totally supposed to work. "Okay, wait--"

"Have fun with your exploding bunk tonight," Ian says, clapping Brendon on the shoulder before strolling back across the stage.

-

_Friday_

"Wait, you tried to bribe him?"

"With steak," Brendon nods, rolling over onto Spencer's chest. He rests his chin in the dip of Spencer's collarbone. It feels funny like this when he talks, because he can feel the slight resistance of Spencer's chest all the way up through his jaw. "It should have worked. He's just an asshole."

"I'm honored," Spencer says gravely, trying to hold back a smile. "Steak is expensive."

Brendon bites the corner of his lip. "Tenderloin," he says, after a moment. "Super expensive."

Spencer raises his eyebrow. "For real?"

"Yeah," Brendon admits, a little sheepishly.

"That's really sweet," Spencer says, his face softening. "In an admittedly weird and kind of fucked-up way." He brushes some of Brendon's hair away from his forehead, letting his thumb linger on the spot at the crown where Brendon's hair is receding slightly. Or as Brendon likes to call it, "exploring new horizons."

"Yeah, well. I kinda like you, bro," Brendon says quietly, nuzzling into the touch.

"I kinda like you too," Spencer says, suddenly serious again. He licks his lips nervously. "I know we haven't really--but this is for real, right?"

"Huh?" Brendon says, sitting up a little. "What's for real?"

"The you-and-me thing," Spencer says. He's blushing again. Brendon has never seen Spencer blush quite this much before. It's amazing. "Like, I know it sucks that we can't do it? But I'd still be here even if we couldn't. You know?"

Brendon swallows. He's suddenly, stupidly touched. "Yeah," Brendon says, a little raspy. He has to clear his throat twice before the words sound normal in his mouth. "Yeah, me too."

"Cool," Spencer says, but his casual disinterest is totally belied by the huge, pleased smile on his face. Brendon is such a sucker for that smile. It's like getting slimed on that random Nickelodeon show from when he was a kid, only instead of that weird green goo, it's a bucketful of kittens and puppies and rainbows.

It's a stupid metaphor, but that's kind of what Brendon actually feels like right now. So fuck it.

"You are totally made of rainbows," Brendon mumbles happily, as he leans in to kiss Spencer.

"What?" Spencer says.

"Never mind," Brendon says.

-

_Saturday Morning_

"So how did you sleep?" Dallon asks, raising an eyebrow at Brendon across the table.

Brendon shrugs. "Good," he says, yawning a little. "Pretty good, yeah."

"Oh," Dallon says. He pauses for a moment. "Really?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, shrugging.

"Huh," Dallon says, sounding slightly disappointed.

Next to him, Ian does a silent fist-pump of victory. He makes the international sign for "You owe me money, sucker!" with his thumb and forefinger, and then freezes when he realizes that Brendon is still watching them silently, one eyebrow raised.

"Um," Ian says.

"You guys both look like someone stole your lunch money." Spencer says, coming up behind Brendon and patting them both on the head as he walks by. "Did you think we didn't know?"

"Um," Dallon says. "Yes?"

"Let me break it down for you," Brendon explains patiently. "Your rules are totally invalid. Not because of the whole no-having-sex thing, but because you guys were betting on us the whole time."

"I--" Dallon says. "Okay, maybe."

"Only since Tuesday," Ian points out.

"Wait," Dallon says. "So why did you go along with it?"

"Because you could have been serious," Brendon says. "There was a very slim chance that us having sex would actually offend you in a grievous manner and scar you both for life. We decided not to risk it."

"You are totally making that up," Ian says. "Bullshit. You believed us until Thursday."

Behind them, on the couch, Spencer mimes a free-throw complete with _swish!_ noise. He's holding a his cereal bowl with one hand.

"You're ruining my sense of mystery, asshole," Brendon says, leaning around Dallon to glare at Spencer.

"You never had a sense of mystery," Spencer says, through the sound of crunching Cheerios. He kicks his feet up on the couch. "S'why I like you."

"D'aww," Dallon says.

-

"Hey, wait. This means we can--"

"No, Brendon."

"We should do it just to spite you," Brendon says. "Like, on all the kitchen counters and shit."

"Do that, and I jerk off on your pillow," Ian says, raising an eyebrow.

"Wow," Brendon says, after a few moments. "That's. You don't fuck around, do you?"

"Nope," Ian says.

-

"So the bet's over," Spencer says, wiping his face off with the back of his hand. It's seriously six thousand degrees out tonight; they've both been dripping wet since the end of soundcheck. "But we still can't--"

"Not really," Brendon says, cracking his neck. "But I talked to Dallon. He's like, he's not trying to be a dick? But he does kind of want to be able to sit down on things without worrying if we've jizzed on them."

Spencer takes a swig of his water bottle. "I guess that's fair," he says eventually.

"Yeah," Brendon says. He shoves his hands in his pockets and then takes a deep breath. "So, I was thinking--"

"--about springing for a hotel tonight?" Spencer says quickly, cutting him off. "Because it's possible I was thinking that too."

"Yeah," Brendon says. They stare at each other for a minute. Brendon's the first to lose it and crack up. "Wait, did you book yours already?" Brendon says, snickering helplessly.

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Maybe."

"Whoops," Brendon says, grinning.

-

_Saturday Night_

"Don't break anything," Brendon says, tossing the extra room key at Dallon and Ian. "It's on my credit card." Dallon catches it in mid-air, and then taps it against his temple in a salute.

"One trashed hotel room, coming up," he says. "Want me to piss on the walls, just in case?"

" _Don't_ ," Brendon says, giving him his most intimidating look. "I know where you sleep."

"I know where _you_ sleep," Dallon says, and then the elevator dings.

"Come on," Spencer mutters, tugging on Brendon's arm. "We all know where everyone sleeps. Everyone wants to bang my mom. We've been through this before, let's _go_."

"Enjoy the gay sex!" Dallon calls out helpfully, as the elevator doors are closing. Behind him, an entire family is giving Brendon and Spencer a horrified look.

"Why," Brendon groans, tipping his head back against the steel wall of the elevator. "Why did he have to do that?"

"Because he hasn't experienced a media firestorm yet," Spencer says grimly. "Don't worry, his time will come. If that makes it to MTV, you can bet there will be a rumor about his secret alien baby the next day."

"You have to make it believable," Brendon says, shaking his head. "No one believes alien baby rumors anymore."

"I'll put Pete on it," Spencer says. The elevators dings to announce their floor.

"What, to come up with a new rumor?" Brendon says, hoisting his overnight bag over one shoulder and following Spencer out. "Or to make everyone believe Dallon has an alien baby?"

"I was going to say the first one," Spencer says. "But now that you mention it--" He's already got the key out, and the key-card clicks in the lock with a soft _ding!_ and a flash of green light. Spencer pushes the door open, and Brendon follows him in.

"If anyone could do it, it's Pete," Brendon says, and then all of a sudden he realizes they're alone. The door clicks behind them, locking them in.

"Ooof," Brendon says, because Spencer's pushing him up against the door almost immediately. "What--"

"Hey," Spencer breathes out. He bites down on Brendon's lip, smiling. "You should take your pants off now."

"I thought you liked me for more than just my dick," Brendon grins. Spencer flicks him in the nose, and then leans in to suck at Brendon's pulse point. "Of course I do," Spencer murmurs, scrapping his teeth over the skin. "But right now we're alone, and you should take your pants off."

"Working on it," Brendon gasps out. Spencer is really good at that, holy shit. It's like he knows exactly where and how hard to bite to make that tingling feeling shoot right down Brendon's spine. Brendon arches out against the sensation, one hand still caught in his waistband, the other covering his fly.

"Not fast enough," Spencer murmurs, biting down harder.

"Christ, then give me a little help here," Brendon mumbles, trying to focus. He can feel Spencer's hands sliding downward, and then he blinks and Spencer's hands are covering his, and his pants and underwear are on the floor. Brendon shakes his head breathlessly when Spencer pulls away.

"I really never pegged you for a secret sex ninja," Brendon mumbles, tugging his shirt up and over his head and trying to make sure the collar doesn't get stuck on his glasses. Spencer is stripping carelessly, effortlessly in front of him, and Brendon has to pause for a moment to just appreciate that.

"It's only 'cause I like you," Spencer says. He brushes his his hair out of his eyes, looks down at Brendon thoughtfully, and then all of a sudden Brendon is like six feet off the ground, holy shit. He lets out a sharp, delighted laugh. Spencer adjusts his arms underneath Brendon's ass and grins at him.

"Carrying me across the threshold?" Brendon says

"Maybe," Spencer says. "Mostly I'm just trying to make you focus."

"I'm pretty focused," Brendon says.

"Good," Spencer says. "Then hold that thought."

They're in the suite that Spencer had paid for and it's actually pretty big. Spencer has to cross the little sitting room area and walk past the bathroom before he makes it to the bed. Brendon wraps his legs a little tighter around Spencer's waist for the journey.

He expects Spencer to drop him on the bed and then roll on top of him, but instead Spencer sits down on the edge, with Brendon on his lap. He waits until Brendon's balanced himself, and then he lays down against the pillows, tugging in Brendon's arm so he'll follow.

"Spencer _Smith_ ," Brendon breathes out, already making himself comfortable on top of Spencer. He lets his fingernails drag lightly down the side of Spencer's torso. "Are you trying to convince me to ravish you?"

"Maybe," Spencer says. He's shrugging his shoulders against the bed, apparently unconcerned, but Brendon can feel the way Spencer's heart rate is speeding up.

"I can work with that," Brendon whispers. It's pretty amazing to have Spencer all spread out beneath him like this. Brendon still isn't sure if he's gay or straight or whatever--all he knows is that he likes Spencer's body, likes the way they fit together. He likes Spencer's long legs and his soft stomach, and the way Spencer arches up underneath him when Brendon leans down to bite at his collarbone.

He makes his way slowly down Spencer's body, pausing to lick and bite and suck at all the places that seem interesting--Spencer's nipples, the curve of his stomach, the pale flat area just above his hips. Spencer's making soft noises, biting at his bottom lip to say quiet.

"No, hey," Brendon says, just as he's making his way down to nuzzle at Spencer's cock, to run his fingers over the leaking head. "I want to hear you."

"Right, but everyone else in this hotel--doesn't--" Spencer says brokenly, pushing his hips up as Brendon licks across the head. " _Fuck_ , Brendon,"

"Mmmhmm," Brendon says, and then opens his mouth wider. It's definitely a stretch, because Spencer is not small, but Brendon likes the way it feels. He pulls back and spits on Spencer's dick, and then lets himself sink back down, working over him with one hand while he takes Spencer in as far as he can go. Brendon can feel Spencer's hand pressing lightly on the back of his head, just a faint echo of touch. He leans into it for a moment, and then he pulls back so he can hike Spencer's legs up over his shoulders.

"What?" Spencer murmurs, brokenly. "What are you?"

"Easier this way," Brendon says, and then goes back to town. He's getting Spencer really wet, because that's what he likes. Brendon can feel the thin trails of spit sliding down his chin, and that should probably be gross but mostly it's just really fucking hot because Spencer can't seem to stay still. He keeps shifting his hips, like he's trying not to push up and choke Brendon but he can't quite help himself.

"It's okay," Brendon gasps, pulling off for a second. "I don't mind."

"I don't want to choke you," Spencer says. He kicks his legs out wider, and Brendon smooths his fingers along the inside crease of Spencer's leg without thinking. He's just trying to get a better angle, but everything's wet and messy and his hand slips. All of a sudden Brendon's got his fingers pressed up directly against Spencer's hole, and--

"Holy shit," Brendon mutters to himself, watching the way Spencer's entire body twitches, the way Spencer's mouth falls open at the sensation.

"Nggh," Spencer says. He sucks in a breath of air, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Wait here," Brendon says, and jumps off the bed to go get the lube. They haven't really talked about it it before, and as Brendon fumbles in his bag for the lube he hopes against hope that Spencer isn't going to freak out. Brendon's not planning on suddenly taking Spencer's ass virginity right now or anything, but a reaction like that needs to be investigated.

"What are you--?" Spencer mumbles, his eyes widening a little when Brendon hops back up on the bed. "Are you--?"

"It's okay, relax," Brendon says, popping the cap with one hand and smoothing a hand down Spencer's thigh with another. "I'm not going to do anything crazy. Just one finger. You can tell me if you hate it."

"Okay," Spencer says, tipping his head back again as Brendon leans down for another cursory lick at Spencer's cock. Brendon gets himself lubed up, and then he tosses the bottle over his shoulder and leans back in. He tucks one hand underneath Spencer's ass, and he can feel the way Spencer's whole body tenses up when he takes him back in his mouth.

"Do you want me to warn you?" Brendon says, pulling off again. Spencer makes a confused noise, pushing his hips up.

"Just--whatever," Spencer pants out. "Whatever you're doing down there, just keep going."

"Right," Brendon says. He leans in and sucks on just the head of Spencer's dick while he trails his fingers back, pressing them into the crease. Spencer's skin is so warm back here, warm and soft and secret. Brendon presses up, rubbing just the tip of his finger against Spencer's hole, and Spencer groans again.

"That is so weird," Spencer pants, shifting restlessly, rubbing himself back against Brendon's hand. "That is--"

"It's good, right?" Brendon says, grinning. He increases the pressure, and then he can feel the tight heat of Spencer's body around him, the slick slide as Spencer opens up.

"Jesusfuckingchrist," Spencer says. "Yeah, it's--oh _God_."

Brendon can't really help himself. He wants to keep teasing, but Spencer's all pliant and overwhelmed above him, pressing back down onto his fingers with tiny little whines. Brendon pushes up, trying to remember the right angle. It's a little more complicated since he's only ever done this on himself. It takes him a few tries, but then all of a sudden he must hit the right spot because Spencer's spine goes ramrod straight for a second, his whole body tensing.

"More," Spencer moans out. His voice is absolutely wrecked. "What was--fuck, do that _more_."

Brendon doesn't reply. He just finally lets himself go, sinking his teeth into the delicate skin between Spencer's cock and the curve of his hip while starting to fuck Spencer in earnest. Brendon likes this--he likes the pushing, the movement, feeling someone else shake apart from the inside. He's always liked getting girls off like this, and with Spencer it's just--it's something else entirely.

"Please," Spencer moans, sliding a hand down to Brendon's hair and tugging. "Can you--god, I'm so close, just a little more--" He's wrapping his legs around Brendon's back, trying to get him even closer. Brendon licks along the side of Spencer's cock and then sinks back down, letting Spencer in as far as he can take him. He presses up with his fingers over and over, as much as he can with the way Spencer's body is literally clenched around him. Spencer's head is thrown back, his mouth open. He's beautiful.

"Fuck," Spencer whispers, and then Brendon can feel everything in Spencer's body relaxing, can feel the way his stomach muscles twitch as he starts to come. Brendon thinks about pulling off, but then it's too late, and he just mentally shrugs and starts swallowing. It's not the most pleasant thing in the universe, but it's not terrible.

He pulls off when Spencer bats at his head weakly. He tries to be careful, but Spencer still shudders when Brendon drags his finger out. "Sorry," Brendon pants, and Spencer shakes his head.

"Come here," Spencer says, grabbing aimlessly at any part of Brendon he can reach. "Jesus fuck, come up here." As soon as Brendon's mouth is within reach Spencer kisses him, licking at Brendon's lips and then opening his jaw up so he can suck on Brendon's tongue. Brendon moans into the sensation, pushing his hips down into Spencer's. He's been so focused on Spencer that he literally hasn't touched his dick since they started this, and all of a sudden it's the only thing he can think about. The sensation of Spencer's skin next to his own is making him shudder.

"What do you want," Spencer says, breaking away. "Anything you want, tell me, how do you want to get off?"

"Just--" Brendon says, biting his lip and pressing his hips down again. "Fuck, just spit on your hand and jerk me off, this is going to take like two seconds." Spencer nods breathlessly. He licks his hand in a wide stripe, from the bottom of his palm to the tip of his fingers, and then he spits twice on his palm and wraps his hand around Brendon's dick. The change in sensation--hot and dry to hot and wet--makes Brendon gasp out loud.

"Harder," Brendon mumbles, leaning back up to bite at Spencer's lips again. "Do it really hard and really fast, and oh--oh _fuck_ \--I'm gonna--" Spencer's hand wrapped around him is the perfect pressure, the perfect speed. Brendon arches his back as he comes, gasping out loud into Spencer's mouth.

"That was," Brendon pants, as he tries to regain the ability to speak. "That was."

"Yeah," Spencer says. His hair is a mess, and he's got a sex-flush that's spreading all the way down to his ribcage.

"Yeah," Brendon agrees inanely. He lets himself flop back down on Spencer's chest.

The buzzer for the outside suite door goes off.

"No," Brendon moans sadly, into Spencer's chest. "No. I am not answering that."

"It might not be them," Spencer says, raising an eyebrow at the door curiously.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "It's probably not them. It's probably a singing telegram who I am going to scar for life when I open the door in only a towel."

"Those things are fucking creepy," Spencer agrees. He thinks about it for a moment, and then he dials the hotel front desk.

"Hi," Spencer says, sliding into his 'polite and upstanding young citizen' voice. "I think there's someone trying to get into my room? We've got the deadbolt locked, but the buzzer keeps going off. Could you send security up?" He pauses, listening to the voice on the other end. "No," Spencer says. "No, we're definitely not expecting any deliveries. You must have the wrong room--I think it must be meant for Room 304. That's our friend, it's his birthday today. Okay--yes--Okay, thank you," Spencer says. He puts the phone back down, and grins at Brendon.

"Dancing, singing clown," Spencer says. "With balloons. A congratulatory clown."

"Oh god," Brendon says.

"Who is now on his way to Ian's room," Spencer says smoothly. He looks pleased with himself.

"You're so evil," Brendon says, with admiration.

"Mmmhmm," Spencer says, sliding his arms around Brendon and getting them both comfortable. He reaches over and turns out the light, and Brendon curls up into Spencer's side. "Also," Spencer says, yawning and wrapping his legs around Brendon's. "Also, I bought us a Super Soaker."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [This Train (is Bound for Glory) [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/442426) by [Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurrochard/pseuds/Fleur%20Rochard)




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